Shiny, Bloody Moments
by somethingoftheunknown
Summary: They have superpowers, get over it. It's not like they wanted it in the first place. They never felt super, anyways.
1. Tori Vega

You were six years old when you first used your power.

The ball you tossed flew high above everyone else, and you feel proud because you can always throw the ball higher than the rest of your playmates. All the kids were eyeing the path of the red ball when things started to go very wrong.

The ball was going straight to Tyler and it was about to hit his face. You remember Tyler; he pushed you to the ground the other day yelling, "Ew! Girl cooties!" You still panicked because even if he was the meanest boy in school, your mommy thought you that people getting hurt is always bad.

So you run after the ball. In that moment, you wanted nothing more than the ball to stop mid-air so it won't hit Tyler.

Then it did.

Everyone froze with the ball. Plastered in their faces are unmoved expression. The silence was deafening.

You walk up the few meters you are from the immobile ball, you grabbed it, and held it firmly in your hands. Everyone remained unmoved and you started to panic. Just as you were about to cry, the sounds returned and everything was in motion.

In a few moments, they were all staring at you. You stretch out your hands to Tyler and held out the ball. He moved back slowly, a horrified expression on his face. You looked around, confused, only to see that almost everyone was doing the same. Even your seven year-old sister, Trina.

You drop the ball to the ground, the sound of it hitting the gravel pushing everyone to back away quicker. You reached out to Tyler, touching his shoulder, urging him to push you back on the ground and yell at you. You rather have him stare at you with his mean, scrunched up face, than the scared, horrified, disgusted expression he's wearing now. Instead, he turned around and ran away.

It didn't take long for the others to do the same.

Your sister lingered for a few seconds, and you look at her with a teary smile on your face, then she ran away too.

You cried and you cried and you cried. All alone in the playground.

After a while, your parents come after you. Your mother kneeled in front of you and hugged you tightly, placing a reassuring hand on your back. It doesn't help though, because you can see your father over your mother's shoulder, smiling at you. But hiding behind his leg was Trina, who looked at you like they all did.

"It's okay," they kept saying, "it's a beautiful gift."

But then you move to Los Angeles a few days later, and it takes your sister seven months to stop looking at you like a monster.

* * *

><p>In the next ten years, it never crossed your mind to use your power again.<p>

Until you met Jade West.


	2. Jade West

You've always known you were different.

Maybe from the very beginning, you knew. You knew you were different, you knew you were special. You knew, you knew, you knew all along.

You knew, and you hated it.

* * *

><p>The story, according to the bits and pieces you manage to dig up from old news articles and police reports, goes like this:<p>

It was a cold Saturday night nearing Christmas, the kind where hot chocolates and an open fireplace wouldn't be out of the question. The West family, known for being the most influential and admired family in the small suburban area, were having an ordinary family night. However, after a few accidents (the reports said that it involved the open fireplace and an unsupervised five year-old), the night took a turn for the worse. The house burst into flames, and in a few minutes, it was engulfed in fire.

The firemen came later than they should have, but the article states that they tried, they really did.

(They knew the Wests; the family gave the most donations to the fire department that year.)

They searched through the ashes with "teary" eyes, not really expecting anything to be saved. To their surprise, there was a survivor. Under the remains of Jack West, was a little girl in burnt clothes. One that is very much alive.

It was a miracle, as the article said, for Jadelyn West was unharmed. Her pale complexion was unscratched, and not a single brunette hair was misplaced.

The newspapers only said that much, ending with the date of the awarding of the new town "heroes".

The next part, you have to credit to a shady interview with an ex-fireman-turned-stoner, and a few urban legends.

Apparently, not everyone considered the girl's survival a miracle. It was suspicious, they noted, how the girl was the only thing that wasn't in ashes, much less the fact that she was completely unharmed.

In reality, when the firemen first discovered the girl, her expressionless face sent chills down their spine. She didn't have any reaction to what was happening around her, and her big, blue-gray eyes do not hold any emotion. When they stood her up, her arms lay limp on her side. They would ask her questions, and she would simply either nod or shake her head; neither of the motions affecting her facial expression. She seemed like nothing more than a doll.

She was taken to a temporary home, one that belonged to one of the West's closest friends. The kind-hearted Robinson's continued to urge the girl to speak or react. They have taken to treating her like a daughter; taking her to the park, and continuously buying her toys. They even enrolled her in a pre-school, hoping that interacting with other kids will snap her out of whatever she's in. Nothing worked, and in the end, they could only take so much.

Mrs. Robinson was the first to crack. It grew into a fight that all the neighbors could hear.

The nearby spectators said that it happened like this:

Cheryl Robinson stormed out of the house with her husband trailing behind her; the little girl a few feet away.

"She has to go! Now." Mrs. Robinson stops walking and turns to her husband. "It's her fault! It's all her fault."

"Honey," Hank Robinson tries to calm his wife, "what are you saying? We can't just kick her out. Remember Jack? He was my best friend. He has always helped us. The least we could do is take care of Jadelyn."

"I don't care." she spat out viciously, "I had a miscarriage because of her!"

He looked at his wife incredulously. He understands that his wife is probably very emotional due to the incident, but blaming it on a six year-old seemed a little too much.

"What are you-?"

"It's true! That child," she pointed a shaky finger at the girl "She killed my baby!" Mrs. Robinson fell to the floor and started sobbing hysterically.

Mr. Robinson approached his wife carefully, "Dear, listen to what you are saying! She's just a child."

She grabbed on to his sleeve, pulling him down.

"Hank, look at her eyes! She isn't natural. She probably started that fire, too!" She turned her head until she caught sight of the little girl and walked shakily towards her. "You started that fire, didn't you?" The girl remained unfazed; this only served to anger Cheryl more, "You killed your parents!"

Mr. Robinson, according to spectators, could not believe his wife's actions. He took strode towards the pair and out of overwhelming rage, he hit her.

For a second, both of them remained frozen. Known for being a non-violent man, his actions silenced the whole neighborhood. Hank quickly reached for his wife and apologized profusely. The little girl though, chose this moment to walk towards the couple. She tugged gently at Mr. Robinson's shirt, and finally spoke.

Her voice had the softness and sweetness of appropriate for a girl her age, but there was a croakiness that was characterized by the whole year she has not spoken a word.

"It's Jade," she said, "my name is Jade."

As Mr. Robinson looked at the girl, his change in expression can easily be seen. It seems he saw a different girl. One that wasn't the lifeless doll they brought in their home almost a year ago, she seemed to be a normal girl now, with real emotions. Her eyes weren't so empty anymore. She was absolutely beautiful. Mr. Robinson kneeled down and put his hands on her shoulder.

"Hi, Jade." he said, pride and happiness in his tone. He could not wait to spend more time with this girl, and hopefully, raise her to be his daughter.

But then Mrs. Robinson, having recovered from the hit she received, decided to retaliate with more uncharacteristic violence.

She slapped the girl right on the face, and the little girl fell brutally on the ground.

Mr. Robinson picked up the girl and shook her.

"Jade," he urged the body to respond, "are you alright? Jade!"

She opened her eyes. Relief was starting to relax his muscles until he realized something was very wrong. The eyes that stared back at him wore the same shade of blue that always make the air around him cold. He lost her. The doll was back. Gone was the warmth of the sweet child that he had the chance to see only moments ago.

He turned, fuming, to his wife.

"What have you done?"

She looked equally furious.

"Look! She isn't even injured. No bruises no anything." She turned to the spectators, daring at the gossips to look her dead in the eye. "She's a demon, I tell you," she screams to the whole town, "a demon!"

"No! She's not a demon!" the harshness of his voice urged Mrs. Robinson to move back. "She was there already.. She was.."

At that moment, the police came.

After that incident, the judge deemed the Robinsons unfit to become parents, and no one wanted to take the little girl anymore. (Even if the whole neighborhood started questioning Mrs. Robinson's sanity, her shouts that night initiated the whispers of panic whenever the name _Jadelyn West _was mentioned.) No one would take her; 'cause who would take a little girl who seems to be followed by nothing but misfortune?

* * *

><p>"Suddenly, James West appeared." the ex-fireman continued, "An uncle, apparently; Jack West's brother. He had rumors following him everywhere; drug-dealing, smuggling, and other suspicious businesses. He made it big, though, in LA. Don't know how it happened but now he has some sort of big-time recording studio. He's a hot-shot now." The man took another bite out of his burger. You try not to shudder at the greasy meat and lettuce falling at the sides. "Anyways, right before the judge sent her to that rundown orphanage on the other side of the town, he came and took the little girl away. Back then, he seemed as penniless as me," a throaty laugh emerged from the man, "but seeing as she had no other immediate family, the judge had no choice but to let him." The man then wiped his greasy fingers on his shirt and took a sip out of his coke. "Never saw the girl again. Good thing, too. She was creepy; had these cold blue-gray eyes," he pointed on towards his own eyes, tracing circles on them, "makes me think that ol' Cheryl Robinson wasn't as crazy as she seemed; maybe she really was a demon."<p>

You pushed yourself off the table, careful not to touch some of the condiments that spilled. You placed money on the table, probably more than enough to pay for whatever you were feeding him.

"Thank you for your time." You said nonchalantly. You head towards the door quickly, the sooner you're out of this hellhole, the better.

"Hey lady!" apparently, the guy had more to say; not that you care, anyways. His information was barely helpful, and his hygiene, unappealing. You've already heard what you needed to hear. You pretend not to notice him calling out and continue to head towards the door. His booming voice pierced the air again, "Why did you want to know?"

You stopped and thought for a moment; deciding on whether or not to entertain this wreck. You turned around and stared at him dead in the eye. You breathe in, then breathe out. Then for a second, you lost yourself; letting your mind slip into some sort of comatose state. Before you fall too deep, you fish yourself out. Now you're back in this rundown bar, and you're staring straight at your informant.

He looks back at you in dread.

You smile and turn around. Leaving the bar, and the town. You swear you're never going to come back again.

* * *

><p>When you got home, you rush to your bedroom drawer and emptied its contents into the trashcan. You light a match and set fire to everything. A year's worth of research and investigation now in flames. It was stupid, trying to find some sort of 'answer' to all your questions. It was useless; hours inside a library and jumping through towns. That idiot you tracked down wasn't even helpful. Nobody could tell you something you don't already know.<p>

Here's how it went down afterwards:

Your uncle really was involved in some sort of underground criminal business thing. James knew about your special "powers"; that was the reason he took you in. He nurtured you and gave you everything you wanted; even raised you to call him daddy or whatever. He was actually a good father; nevermind his Mafia-esque profession. It was all good, until he realized that your "powers" can't help him.

See, James wasn't purely evil; evil, but not purely evil. After his rise in power in his secret organization, a rise that unfortunately _you _couldn't help with, you became nothing more than some sort of trophy for him. For his buddies in the music business, a wonderful cover-up profession you might say so yourself, you were his beautiful, musically-talented daughter.

For his underground minions, you were their princess. Their flawless, untouchable, _invincible_ princess.

You knew the story already, but what you didn't know is _why._

Why do you have these powers?

You watch the whole bin go up into flames. Then you realize how stupid it is that you're trying to find an answer to that question. You'll probably never know; what's the point anyways? It's not like knowing how you became some sort of freak will automatically make you happy, nor will it bring your _real _parents back to life.

The fire is gone, and the ashes remain. It's funny that you have a thing for arson when flames gave your life a crappy start.

* * *

><p>So yeah, you very much know that you are different. But you guess it doesn't really make you special.<p>

It didn't take long, though, to figure out that Tori Vega was different, too.


	3. Tori Vega II A

You've lived the illusion of being normal your whole life. But there are those moments that made you wonder—only for a second – if you could be a superhero. Actually, those moments came and went more often than you wanted to, and you couldn't count the opportunities you've been given to save someone from a certain doom if you tried.

But you guess that was the problem; _trying_.

* * *

><p>Your freshmen year was spent in a high school that was too stereotypical for your taste. There were mean girls and jocks, nerds and geeks, and they threw kids in the dumpsters like they were in Ohio. You thought that they didn't even do that anymore; but there apparently, in the heart of Los Angeles, the kids lived in some sort of 1990's teen movie. Yet you followed their unspoken rules like everyone else.<p>

It was the first day of high school; you and everyone else tried their best not to embarrass themselves/give themselves a reason to be bullied or alienated. You were doing your best to be part of the crowd; not attracting the wrong kind of attention, when you saw a student about to do just that.

A girl was carrying her lunch on a tray, too busy talking to her cell phone; a senior, she seemed to be. And there was a boy with his eyes glued to the floor (presumably to avoid eye contact); you recognized him in some of your classes. They were about to crash into each other.

You could imagine the food flying, messing up her designer clothes (skanky and probably ridiculously expensive). Ah, this boy was so screwed.

You figured you were the only one who saw this incoming tragedy ten seconds in the making, and a wave of some sort of ingrained sense sense of justice washed over you (you guess it's because your father was a cop). This boy didn't deserve the ridicule he'll surely get. You looked at him sympathetically from afar and realized that he was the nice guy that lent you a sharpener once or twice, his name was Dan or Van? You weren't too sure. He actually seemed modestly cute (it was the first time you got a good look at him because he was so shy; he kept his head down and practically talked in murmurs).

It took you a minute or two to realize you've done it again.

You looked around and saw that the whole cafeteria stopped its motion, and the deadly silence rang in your ears. A small panic rose in your chest and you looked at Dan (it was the only name that stuck) again.

A thought enters your brain; a few strides and you could've reach him, maybe if you just tilted his head up a little so he could've seen where he was going and maybe he could've stopped himself on time. You were five steps away from doing something; and you wanted to do something (you entertained the thought of becoming Super Tori, defender of losers against the evil forces of high school). You thought that if you could help this boy, then maybe you wouldn't have to hate on your "gift" so much.

You were about to take that first step. But suddenly you were five years old again, in a playground in your old neighborhood; you could see them, your sister and Tyler, looking at you with horrified expressions. That made you pause for only a second or two, but it was enough, for time started moving again.

Then came a high-pitched scream. Dan looked at the mess he created, eyes bulging out. He apologized repeatedly, stumbling over his own words. Which was useless since the girl was too busy trying to remedy the stains of her shirt. Everyone laughed, either at his misfortune or hers.

Then you felt some other emotion wash over you; guilt, immense guilt. It was the worst feeling, and it didn't disappear for the longest time.

* * *

><p>A year later, you found yourself in a somewhat favorable position. You grew a little taller, your hair, longer, and you went up a cup size or two. You've been starting all kinds of buzz, especially when the seniors started complimenting your face, your hair, cheekbones and such. You were fairly popular but you weren't mean, you didn't even use your fame to your advantage. In other words, you had everything you needed to be one of the <em>Queens <em>of the school, but you chose not to. You became some sort of legend by rocking the status quo of the school. (You were appalled by the fact that being different in this school is being _nice_.)

You still saw Dan-_Daniel_ (you learned his name) around. His figure, still slumped and with eyes that never leave the ground. His first day cafeteria event was was overshadowed by the next drama easily enough, but no one dared to befriend him anymore, lest he made another slip up. It's horrible, you thought, that no one talked to him because of _one __accident_. Then you felt again that pang of guilt that ate it's way inside you, and you realized that you were absolutely no better than _them_.

You decided it was time to change that.

You walked up to him, ignoring the confused looks that were sent your way. He looked up, seeming a bit frightened. _There's that guilt again._

"I'm Tori Vega."

He nodded in a way that showed that he was already very aware of who you are.

"Danny" he replied.

You asked him if he wanted to have lunch with you. His face crumpled up in a weird expression; a mixture of shock, gratitude, and happiness. Like he won the lottery. Like he was _saved_.

Then you and Danny hung out everyday. You saw how his quick rise to popularity changed him little by little; the spiked hair and the piercings, the cool-guy words in his vocabulary. It got a little out of hand, but the thing that made you stay is the way he looked at you; as much as he changed, he still looked at you like you were some kind of _hero_ when you know that you're anything but that. (_"There are two kinds of evil people in the world: one that do evil things, and the other sees evil things being done and ignores it." _- so maybe you first heard that in _Mean Girls_, but whatever.)

However, you eventually broke up with him. You had to, he was _different_. But he seemed to fare well all by himself then.

You still caught the looks when he gave them, and you thought that maybe what you did on the first day- actually, it's what you _didn't _do- was already forgiven by the higher divine beings of the earth. Even if he was naturally upset by the break-up, he seemed a hell lot happier than he did a few months back.

The guilt was gone, and it was replaced by a sense of pride warming up your chest. You think that you've payed, and maybe even over-payed your debt, and that was where the good feeling came from.

So you vowed to become the kind of person that will do their best to help anyone in need. Like a superhero.

You guess you didn't have to use your power after all.

* * *

><p><strong>Hello everyone. Hey, it's my first author's notes! I know this chapter (and the following) is long overdue. Also, if you look very closely, you can see the immense lack of Jori in the whole story. The story's probably getting a bit dragging now. I won't apologize for those , though. Well, maybe the lack of Jori part; I actually feel bad for that. Anyways, I just want to say thanks to all those that review- especially the critics; very helpful people, I must say. So yeah..<strong>


	4. Tori Vega II B

You're not a girl who believes in destiny. You know that you seem like the type who did. Fairy tales, princes, and happy endings; they're all fair game. Those things are completely plausible in your opinion (in the modern-day context of course).

Destiny, however, is just crap- absolute, glorified shit. (Oh god, you hate using that word, but it needed to be said.)

You refuse to believe that your life was already pre-planned for you by some higher entity that can possibly lock you in a life of hell. You believe in choices. Whether it's the clothes you wear or that bad breakfast burrito you had, you like knowing that good or bad, your life was your choice.

Then Jade West happens.

Jade West and all her pale glory comes in and messes up your life. She was a hurricane, destroying anything in her path, and unfortunately you were in her way.

You wonder how your life spiraled out of your control and you let something else take over.

Oh _yes_, you believe in destiny now, because you swear that Jade West wasn't your choice.

* * *

><p>When you think about it, it's kind of funny how your life ended up this way. It was like some force was literally pushing you closer and closer to Jade. Like what happened in the showcase. One second, you were just a seemingly normal high school girl attending a normal high school and the next, you're put in your sister's shiny dress and dragged on stage. Three minutes later, you acquired a new school- the same one that a certain pale girl also attends.<p>

It's not that you didn't appreciate the fact that you got in Hollywood Arts, but there was an uneasy feeling that didn't sit too well in your stomach. Like you were beginning to lose grip on the steering wheel of your life. You've always been careful not to lose control. (Careful not to let your powers out.)

And those sinking feelings were right because the second you entered that school, you were stripped of your hold on your life. It was as if your life was suddenly a show (a show on a children's network, really) written by another. And it should have frightened you when you constantly found yourself stuck in the middle of some crazy situation on a seemingly weekly basis. But Hollywood Arts was still as alluring as ever. The creatively colored campus and the endless melodies of the hallways captivated you and you were more than willing to let yourself be sucked in the randomness of it all.

And the thing is, it wasn't random at all.

* * *

><p>This is when Jade comes in.<p>

It wasn't a secret that she hated you, and you often questioned whether you deserved it or not. (Rubbing her boyfriend and kissing him later may not have been your best decision.) But it wasn't her hatred that bothered you (although you aren't really used to being hated), it was the fact that you couldn't help but want to be closer to her. You know it sounds crazy but there was something about the goth that got your attention from the beginning. You weren't sure if it was safe to say that you two have some sort of _connection _but that was what it felt like.

It also didn't help that you knew Jade was constantly watching you.

You felt her cold stares ironically burn holes onto your back. It made you nervous; your pulse went a little faster and the hair at the back of your neck stood up. You never caught her though, no matter how quick you turned, she had already looked away. But you could never shake off the feeling that she's there. Always watching you.

* * *

><p>This was your first clue:<p>

Everyone knew the 'Stage Fighting Incident'. The one in which Tori Vega was so afraid that Jade West would hit her that she accidentally gave Jade a black eye. That incident, however, was easily forgotten by next week's drama (which had something to do with Trina's birthday). What few people knew was that it was a fake black eye. And what only you and Jade knew was what happened that Friday night.

Leaving through the double doors in front of Hollywood Arts after ditching Derek to clean the mess up all by himself, you and Jade ran towards her car in hysterical fits of laughter. After both of you caught your breaths, Jade looks at you for a second with her bottom lip caught between her teeth.

"Hey," she said while unlocking the door to her car, "I guess I'm sorry for faking that injury."

You raised your eyebrows skeptically but you couldn't help the smile that formed on your lips, "You guess?"

"Yeah." She didn't say anything else and she went into her car and drove away. You already lost sight of her car when you realized that you didn't have a ride home.

Later that night (when you managed to convince Trina to pick you up two hours earlier than planned), you contemplated on the events of that day. It went from bad to worse to good, and you were left feeling pretty swell with yourself. You were also more than excited with the progress you made with Jade. Something bothered you, however. It was something else that Jade said right before she drove away. But it was something she said quietly, and you wonder if it was only the wind who whispered it to you.

_You couldn't hurt me even if you tried._

* * *

><p><strong>I know how late this is. But hey, school's been on my ass 247 and then summer comes and I get dumped. I know that a boyfriend isn't the most important thing in the world but hey, I'm allowed to be sad.**


	5. Jade West II A

You're invincible. Nothing could hurt you- nobody could. All those bumps from the playground never appeared, the cuts from grade school were gone without a trace, and those fire accidents seemed like they never occurred. That's your secret, your _power. _If something happened, you can always retreat in that little metaphorical shell where you can lick your wounds clean._  
><em>

The problem was fishing you out of it. So you never let yourself slip away for too long. Only just for a few seconds; just wading in the shallow water, never in a place deep enough to drown you.

And that's why "Daddy" hated you. When he found out what your powers were (_useless_, he said), he didn't love you anymore (though, it was questionable if he _did, _to begin with.)

And soon enough, you hated him back. That sick bastard.

(You were practically immortal; what _more _can he want?)

But you guess he decided that you weren't completely useless because he gave you a job; _recruitment.  
><em>

* * *

><p>You first saw Victoria Vega on a Monday morning. In a file on top of your kitchen table.<p>

The first thing you noticed was her cheekbones. After that, her brunette curls and blinding smile. She was pretty, you decide-well, as much as a girl in a stolen shot can be pretty.

You skim through her unusually thick file and you saw that Daddy's little workers did their homework pretty well because they got everything on this Vega girl; lists of her schools and her grades, and short-profiles on her friends. They had her family tree traced down to its roots. There were pictures of her in between pages where the tan girl didn't look like she even knew she was taken a shot of (the eerie thing is that the pictures date back to childhood vacations trips).

_Sister: Katrina Vega__  
><em>

You knew the name and soon enough you had your phone out, pressing on speed dial number one on your phone (number two was Beck- business first).

"I can't do this," you said right after he picked up.

"And why not?" your father sounded tired and annoyed, and you figured he probably just came from a meeting or whatever. It's not that you care, though, if he isn't going to show his face for eleven months out of the twelve months in the year, then you could care less about his well-being.

"Her sister goes to my school," you informed him as a matter-of-factly, "I can't do this, she's too close."

You heard a long sigh from the other end, "Jadelyn, this is a special project. We have to get her as soon as possible."

"What?" you exclaimed, "Is that why her file is so thick? What's so special about her?"

"That's not important to you." he replied quickly. "Look, if your cover gets blown, I can easily move you to a new school. Maybe even an arts school in New York if you're still into all that singing and prancing on stage."

You gritted your teeth, "It's not like that."

"_And_," he said, ignoring her, "I know that you won't mess this up. _You've done this before._"

You clench your fist at your side, "You can't get anyone else to do this?"

"No," he snaps, "I need the girl as soon as possible. Just do as you're told." The line went dead.

You screamed in frustration and threw your phone to the wall, effectively breaking it into pieces. You reach over to the folder on the table and go through it harshly. _What could possibly make her so important? _It turns out, though, that even if you have the whole documentation of Victoria Vega's entire life, there's not one thing in there that points out to what her powers may be.

You hate this. And not just because you read that she named her stuffed-giraffe 'Mr. Purple'; but god, she's so happy. She had a happy childhood and everything and it's so _unfair_.

And you hate that your job is to destroy that happiness._  
><em>

_You've done this before._

* * *

><p>You had a feeling your father had something to do with this.<em><br>_

Because Victoria Vega just sung and danced her way into Hollywood Arts.

And how convenient, _she goes to your school now_.

* * *

><p>One day, you snapped.<p>

She had just taken another one of your snide remarks with a smile and you decided that you just can't take it anymore.

So you locked her in the janitor's closet with you and demanded your answers. _Why?_

"What do you mean, Jade?" she looked so scared and frightened and that just pissed you off more because you knew very well that she isn't weak.

"Why are you so nice to me?" her face softened at this and you knew what she was going to say, "No! Don't give me that 'I just want to be friends' crap."

"Jade," her voice was careful, "you're hurting me."

You looked down at your hand that was squeezing her arm and you know that you should probably let go because you can feel your nails almost digging into her skin. But instead, you keep your hold.

"See? That's what I do, Vega, I hurt you. Why aren't you hurting back?" you could feel your whole body shaking as you spit out the words. "What makes you so special?"

Her breathing becomes more frantic and she looks around the room nervously, "What do you me-ah!" her voice raises as you tighten your grip on her arm.

You realized that you two weren't exactly being quiet when you hear a sharp knock and Andre's voice echoing through the door, "Jade! Tori! What's going on in there?" Tori turns to the door, calculating some sort of possibility of an escape, but you block her exit.

"I know you have a power." you feel her whole body go rigid at those words, "But what's with it? Is it so _amazi__ng_?" you drawl out the word mockingly but you truly wonder if it is. _Why does father want it so bad?_

"Stop," she says quietly, her voice shaking for she was on the verge of crying, "I don't.. I don't have-"

"What? You don't have powers?" you're rage grows even more with her denial, "Don't lie. Or are you just scared what your followers might think when they realize that Miss Tori 'I'm so perfect' Vega is a freak."

"Shut up, Jade." she says, gathering her courage.

"Or what?" you growl at her, "Are you going to finally stop being perfect, huh? Or are you gonna use whatever freaky power you have to hurt me?"

"Shut the fuck up!"

"Tori! Jade!" Andre shouted again, "Open up or I swear I'll-"

Seeming to be cut off by a deafening silence, Andre's voice hung in the air with his unfinished statement. The rumble of the school hallways was silenced and the always-present musical tones of the school disappeared. In fact, the only noise you could hear came from your movements in the closet.

"Something happened." You said it as a whisper but it was amplified by the fact that no other sound rivals it. It didn't take too long for you to realize that this was _her _doing.

Tori's head snapped up to look at you, the color of her face drained from her face like she had seen a ghost. She looked down at her arm and she pulled it from your grip.

"No," she said as tears flowed down her face, "no, no, no, no, no!"

You almost didn't do what you planned to do because your rage quickly turned into guilt at the bottom of your stomach and it was eating you. But you just _had _to know.

You could hear her cries of _pleaseJadenopleasedon't _as you walk over to the door. You try to drown out the sounds of her pleas but it was difficult when there was no other noise to concentrate on.

When you swung the door open, you see Andre's worried face frozen on the spot and the rest of Hollywood Arts at a standstill.

_So this was her power._

You close the door and turn to face Tori's sobbing figure; god, you didn't mean to make her cry. You walked over to her, trying to think of ways to explain and apologize because the guilt was overwhelming and really, what in the fucking world were you thinking doing that to her?

What you didn't count on was how fast things happened.

"-kick the door down!"

All the noises came back in a bang so loud that you swear you were going to go deaf.

Next thing you know, Tori had you pinned up against the wall and she was pulling harshly at your hair. She was mad- no, she was fucking pissed at you. You feel her slam your face backwards, the back of your head hitting the door multiple times until there were black dots in your vision. Then you were swung to another wall and you feel the mops and brooms crashing down on you. You still didn't fight back, though, even if you could feel Tori's fingers clawing your face so hard that you're sure she's drawing blood.

It's because you haven't been hurt this much. You could hear her scream at you and you feel her pull at your hair and slap you in the face and make you bleed and, _wow_. No one has hurt you this much.

You could feel yourself slipping in and the last thing you see was Tori Vega looking down at you through her bloody hands. Her face was flushed; panicked, guilty and absolutely horrified.

She looked beautiful.

_Hm, what an odd thought._

* * *

><p><strong>Hallo there, thank you for the reviews and the encouragements you all gave me. I appreciate it, really.<strong>

**I would have had updated sooner but I was in Baguio. (For those who don't live in the Philippines, Baguio is a cold place where there are strawberries, horses, and pine trees. What they don't have, though, is Wi-Fi.)  
><strong>


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